Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1887-02-19
Yet he has got on in lifel Only

worth. He has made ambition his
god, and the sacrifices he has offered
on its altar have been many, and
now it does not seem to him that his
religion has been an ennobling one.
In the few seconds during which
the past rolls back on him, the young
map has sort OF dual consciousness;
he secs himself on the canvass, as it
we're, and yet plays the part Of spec-
tator.
/ But it is not his own figure that in
terests him most in the scene before
/ him, it is that Of the bright young
girl walking by its side. How happy
she seems, and how at home with
him
He had never spoken to her of
love, and yet both had been content
to enjoy the present, to rest in the
sympathy and the rapportvhich max
es loves paradise.
That very morning was she not
| paying him the highest compliment
woman can pay to mang Namely, take
for granted he will understand her
when she reveals herself at once as
the poet and the child.
All me would she be able TO trust
him as completely now, or would
the mists of worldliness that have
crept round his soul be barrier
against the sunshine Of her conf
| dence.
How her pretty innocent fancies
come back, though the scene fades be-
fore him, and he is conscious only OF
the present and its contrast with the
past.
There was the spot on the north
side of the hills where the cold winds
beat, and where they found q cluster
| Of white harebells, and she called
them sainted flowers, that had been
purified by suffering and endurance,
and she picked one or two and shel
tered Thorn in the heaven 'of her
breast. Then. dropping thc'sweet
seriousness Of her mood, she show
ed dainty playfulness that seemed
like the spray from the fountain of
her inner happiness. She gataered
1 the long grasses and showed him
how to play soldier and tell for
tunes, and held q fairyike head Of
dandelion TO his lips and made him
blow upon II to find ont the hour,
and whether they would be late for
| luncheon.
&c had taken care that it shoula
make the time as early IS possi-
BILE, and she had seer his trick and
| laughed, but with Just touch Of
heightened conscious color IN her
check
Then She told him how to watt a
kiss 10 some distant loved one from
the down-covered thistle, and he an
swered by stepping q yard or two
from the path to windward, and let
ting the wind carry his token to
where she stood. OF course she
pretended not to understand, with a
woman's delicious obtuseness under
such circumstances.
lie takes up the little seed now
and holds it tenderly. What If she
had been thinking OF him and waited
kiss TO him thus
He smiles at his own folly, but he
touches the token with his lips and
/ places it gently between the leaves
of his pocket book.
A week later there are two figures
sitting on the hillside bowlder, and
the world-weary journalist is one,
only he doesn't look now as IL he
found life quite worn out, and there
is dewy sweetness in the eyes his
companion that makes them seem
like flowers on which the sunlight
falls after showers.
"Did you send me itf" he asks
half playfulIy, as he tell her how the
piece Of thistle-down blew in at his
| wind rr and cnokn 70 him 81. hnr